OCR Text |
Show KATHLEEN S-.-"',vfe 'S COPYRIGHT, KATHLEEN NORRI5 W.N-U. S E R VIC E SYNOPSIS Antoinette Taft, twenty-three, attractive at-tractive and ambitious but unable to hold a job, lives in a drab San Francisco Fran-cisco flat with her sister -Brenda and brother Cliff, who are older, her seventeen-year-old brother Bruce, and their Aunt Meg. In her job hunting rounds she interviews Lawrence Bellamy, Bel-lamy, editor of the Journal of Commerce, Com-merce, but finds he has no place for a woman writer. She likes him very much, as she tells Brenda later. Diffident Dif-fident Barney Kerr drops in, asking where Cliff is. Barney has his eye on Tony, but she despises him. Tony gets a telephone call from Mr. Greenwood, Green-wood, city editor of the Call, offering her a job as society reporter. Cliff, returning Just then, accompanies Tony ,to the newspaper office. CHAPTER III Continued 3 Cliff opened the door, and Tony had her first look at the city room. It angled the entire width of the building on two sides. The third side, she was presently to learn, was the Sunday paper department, and the fourth was variously divided divid-ed by the library, the flies, the photographers' pho-tographers' lairs. Down below were the business offices, imposing . In heavy chairs and eucalyptus paneling; pan-eling; up here everything was con-- con-- frTs1tJitr--disorder, haste. The instant her nostrils caught the first scent of it she knew that she belonged here; that this was her world, her battlefield, her first love. Men were everywhere; shouting, smoking. Typewriters were clicking; there was a ripping sound as paper was torn from them ; there was a constant eccentric eccen-tric chatter of a telegraph machine from the wide littered desk marked "Associated Press." ' Mr. Charles Greenwood was a dark little weasel of a man who occupied a corner desk shut away from the general oflice only by a nicked and battered fence of dark wOTid with a gate. Tony was ushered ush-ered Into his immediate neighborhood. neighbor-hood. The desk before the city editor was heaped high with the society pages of recent Sunday papers. He had evidently been clipping and - pasting desperately; he Indicated a drawer full of uninviting-looking letters. "We got to have a page of this stuff, good," he said "for Madame La Diuhesse. That's the swell stuff, see the Burlingame crowd, the la-di la-di -Inlis. see? You know that crowd, don't you?" he broke off to ask suspiciously, looking up at Tony. "Well." Tony answered firmly, without the flicker of an eyelid. "Well, now, look here. You'll have 'Ducky's' desk; that's what the boys called our last Madame," Greenwood broke off to say, appealing ap-pealing to their sympathy. "Site was a hellion; she's left everything Tony Had Her First Look at the City Room. In a moss! Now, when you came here to leave your name when was that?" "Three times since Christmas," Tony reminded him. "You said that ynu thought you could handle it?" His eve was suspicious sus-picious again. "I can." "Y'uinlerstand that every Thurs-- Thurs-- .-' tiny we've gut to have a whole page of it with two plintus?" Her heart failed her for a second. sec-ond. "Ortainly." Tony said, with a reassuring re-assuring mimI. 'Vim clip a lol of It for tiuiiiHTou . see?" the hnr.-'ssod :ri'i'Mv,inil further explained. f 1 "Look over the papers ; I've got the Oakland papers here too, and pick out whatever looks good to you. I won't be here, but you give it to Mr. Florence he's that drunk-Iookin' drunk-Iookin' crook over there. "Get it all together and hand it In before ten tomorrow night. And you'll have to get your own column, col-umn, too say about sixteen Items get 'em good, because we've been running down lately. You run round among your friends, and you'll pick 'em up easy. Then, If you run Into any good club stuff women scrapping bring that In, that's always good. Keep your eyes open oh, and by the way, you'll do that dance down at the Burlin game club next week, will you?" "Certainly," Tony agreed, her head spinning. "All right, then you take all this stuff along to your desk Mac-Grath Mac-Grath !" shouted the city editor, "help Miss help Miss Taft to take all this stuff to the Duck's desk, will you, and rustle her up a typewriter type-writer somewhere, and get her some paper. She's going to do our Sunday page tomorrow, and boy, will It be good I All right, Miss Taft, I'll see you Friday keep your shirt on, and ask the boys for anything you want. Oh, and by the way, root us out a couple of good pictures tomorrow for Sunday. Sun-day. I didn't get round to it!" Tony and Clifford and the amiably amia-bly burdened MacGrath went to a cluttered desk by a black window that was trickling rain. Everyone looked at them ; Tony did not dare raise her eyes. She found her new domain frightfully fright-fully dirty and the typewriter frame empty. "I'll have Laren get you a typewriter type-writer downstairs," said MacGrath, Mac-Grath, in embarrassed apology. "Looky, here's the book they keep the names in who's In society, and who's married to whose sisters, and all that." Tony clutched the shabby leather record eagerly. "Oh, that'll be priceless!" "He's all right," confided MacGrath, Mac-Grath, with a jerk of his head toward the city editor's desk,1 "only he cusses a lot." . "Is there a man named Burke working here?" Clifford now found a lull in which to ask. "Sure. Spike, where's Burke? He's .usually In the sports," said MacGrath. "Here he Is!" He smote the shifted back of a stalwart young man who was washing wash-ing not only !s face, but his whole head and his arms up to the elbow at one of the basins. This person, dripping and sudsy, turned about with a loud "Quit !" "Oh, hello, Cliff," Joe Burke said, then added, beaming over the filthy roller towel In a froth of white, "Hello, Miss Taft say, what a break! What's doing?" While he quite without embarrassment embar-rassment dried his face and hands, rolled down his sleeves, put on a collar and combed his thick red hair, they told him what was doing, do-ing, and Tony beamed hopefully into his pleasant red-brown eyes. "Sure, you can work that society so-ciety racket like a shot!" Joe Burke told her heat'tenlngly. "It's soft." "Oh, I hope It Is!" Tony said, with a smile, with a lift of thick lashes, with a great rise of her heart. "Listen, let's eat," Mr. Burke said abruptly. They went , up Market street to Lorenzo's, where Tony and Cliff had hot delicious "lialf-and-lialfs" and toast, and Joe had a limp pink veal cutlet that had been seized from a long damp pan of cutlets displayed in Lorenzo's window, rolled In egg and crumbs, blackened black-ened in a pan of hot grease, smoth ered In gory catsup and served smoking hot with fried potatoes within the space of six minutes. The little restaurant with the window grill was bright and warm on the rainy night; the clock stood at twelve, and Tony felt excited and happy. This was living! There were several men having veal chops and oyster stews in Lorenzo's, Loren-zo's, and presently her brother was surprised to see her flush and smile a little self-consciously and bow to one of them. "Who's that?" "It's Mr. Bellamy of the Journal." Jour-nal." "That's right, too." said Joe. "I don't know him. but I've seen him in here before. lie's pretty thick with old Arnoldsnn on our paper. Arnoldson told Fitch Fitch Is the managing editor that he thought Bellamy was the smartest man on the const, except maybe Anders down In Fresno." lony knew that the man who was having oysters at the counter was watching her; she looked ab-sorbedly ab-sorbedly at Joe. "Is Mr. Greenwood smart, Mr. Burke?" "He Is and he Isn't," said Joe. "He's a terrible souse. Here's Moore. Sit down, Buck. This Is the new society editor. Miss Taft. Miss Taft, Buck Moore, of the Sunday edition. You'll have to see a lot of old Buck I" Tony hardly heard him. She was thrilled ; she was happy. The romantic ro-mantic dark, brilliant Mr. Bellamy had seen her alone and forlorn and supplicatory this morning In the dreary rain ; he saw her tonight with three good-looking men having hav-ing oysters at Lorenzo's. And to Mr. Moore she had been Introduced as the Call's society editor, CHAPTER IV OH, IT was good to have a Job again, and to have it spring, and morning, and to be twenty-three! twenty-three! Tony awakened eagerly, dressed with enthusiasm, finished her breakfast, and piled her coffee cof-fee cup and berry saucer In the sink. Then came a blank. "How do you suppose I can get those photographs for Sunday, Bendy?" "I've been wondering," Brenda said. "Would any of the photographers photogra-phers help out, do you think?" "I don't think they'd be allowed to give out pictures for the papers. Just the same, they're my best bet!" Tony decided uneasily. She left the house at nine o'clock and went to six photographers. It was always the same. It was not permitted per-mitted ; they said they were sorry. At five minutes to one she went Into the newspaper oflice, all the first enthusiasm of the new job clouded by a sense of fear and failure. She hung up her hat and coat In the oflice and confided her problem to Joe Burke. "Oh, shucks," Joe said, "I'll tell you what you can do. Look over the other Sunday papers for the last few weeks, and telephone the studios stu-dios for what you want." "But I've just been to the studios, stu-dios, and they were awfully mean !" "They won't be, If you want pictures pic-tures that have been used. Or telephone the girls, If you like," Joe suggested easily, "and say thai you are going to use an old picture pic-ture and would like permission to have a new one." s "Yes, but have we old pictures?" "Lord, haven't you seen the gallery?" gal-lery?" He took her In there, and she began to feel excited and happy and confident again. When she came back to her desk she telephoned tele-phoned a downtown studio firmly, authoritatively. This was the society so-ciety editor of the Call speaking. "I can have the prints thee for you In an hour," the voice promised. prom-ised. Tony felt almost giddy with relief, and laughed aloud. She sat working In a sea of clippings and notes; she was conscious con-scious of the increasing stir about her. Men were lounging In, gossiping gos-siping and smoking; they all looked curiously at her, and she knew it, although she did not look up. The city editor came in and chatted with her, sitting edgewise on her desk, picking his teeth. Tony worked away industriously. She clipped, pasted, counted words, her face grew hot and her hair tumbled; it seemed to her that a tide of paper was rising steadily about her. Mr. Florence, acting for the absent ab-sent editor, asked her for her "stuff" for tomorrow. Tony produced pro-duced It anxiously. He took it without comment; presently came back, to ask : "Oughtn't we have the Harriman bridesmaids?" "Oh, should we?" Tony asked agitatedly, her heart hammering and her mouth dry. "How do I shall I go out there?" "No, I'll get 'em for you," a nice hoy named Slosser volunteered lazily, laz-ily, from the adjoining desk. He whirled the leaves of a telephone book that was fluffed up to three times its size. "Thai's the Paul Ilarrimans," he muttered. Presently Present-ly he was penciling hurriedly; he tossed a scribbled sheet to Tony's desk. "Here lliey are!" he told her carelessly. "You fix 'em up." Her telephone rang; she answered an-swered It apprehensively. But it was the apathetic Henrietta on t lie switchboard : Miss Taft's sister was there, and should she send her in? Tony went eagerly to the door to meet Brenda. not quite sure that Brenda had any right here, but all the more welcome for that. "Darling, do you come home to dinner?" "I don't know. I could ask Mr. Florence." They went together to Mr. Florence's Flor-ence's desk, and he assured Tony heartily that of course she could go home to dinner; she was tired, she'd lxon working like a Turk couldn't one of the boys finish up the Sunday page? Oh, no, no. no. Miss Taft would be back In about an hour, she had It all In line, there wasn't very much more to do. Tony and Brenda were hugging each other's arms with excitement and pleasure as they got Into the elevator, nn.l at the dinner table Tony was voluble vol-uble about the delights of the new Job. She went back to the oflice through the black night with a singing heart, and the hot city room, when she reached It. with the boys lounging about, and the type writers going, telephone hells linl; I ling and snouts and racket or every side seemed to her the most satisfying spot she had ever known In her life. CHAPTER V THE nervous excitement persisted persist-ed for days for weeks. There were bad hours as well as good. Tony learned that a newspaper office, of-fice, like an army camp, Is a fertile fer-tile place for rumors, and most of them were alarming. Almost every week there was dark talk of a complete change In management, and no reporter felt sure of himself, even from day to day. An especially glib, strange, young man, or well-dressed, well-dressed, unknown young woman, observed to be deep In talk with Greenwood, spread general apprehension. appre-hension. She had accepted Barney's humiliating hu-miliating suggestions In serious earnest; she would take no chances on this job. Tony was always the There Were Bad Hours as Well as Good. first to reach the office, the most punctual with her work. She brushed her hair back slickly and saw to It that her cuffs and collar col-lar were in trim. Over such mistakes mis-takes as she made she showed so horrified a contrition that Greenwood's Green-wood's reproofs often turned Into good-natured laughter. "Well, listen here no harm done. Old Mrs. Itufus Waite got mad because she hasn't ever forgiven for-given George for marrying as he did, and you put the Georges at her big ball. Don't do It again, that's all." Tony would go back to her desk to take out the Indispensable old leather book and turn to the page-tab page-tab marked "V." Under "Waltes" she would carefully write "old Mrs. It. hates Georges his wife Carolyn Caro-lyn Petty, light opera." She was often late at the office as autumn came on with affairs for the debutantes and the reopening re-opening of city houses, and she loved every minute of It. Aunt Meggy, assisted more often by colored col-ored Asterbel now. Insisted that Tony sleep late; there was something some-thing very agreeable about awakening awaken-ing at nine instead of seven o'clock, and coming out to the sitting room for late coffee and blackberries and the newspaper and Aun Meggy's Meg-gy's contented chat.' It was not only one's natural liking for ease, Tony thought; It went deeper. There was something In this changed routine that flattered her pride, that pride that had been so cruelly hurt and lowered In the long humiliating months when Tony had been the member of the family fam-ily who lost jobs was fired couldn't help with the family's financial problems. Now they saw, all of them, that she wasn't lazy, that site did like work ! She was a professional woman now, absorbed and busy, well paid and content, and her hours deserved respect. At ten o'clock every morning she began her rounds: perhaps a call at one of the fashionable women's wom-en's clubs, perhaps a visit to some kindly society woman who had offered of-fered to help her out with news. Always she went In. on her way to the oflice, to see Brenda In the bookstore, busy and sweet and helpful help-ful among the books, and usually with some items gleaned from her morning's work. From Brenda she would go to the oflice, where much of her copy was secured by telephone. Tony came to know that the society folk always felt It necessary to pretend pre-tend that they disliked any newspaper news-paper notoriety. But If she could get It from friends, or by any ?levor little maneuvering of her own, they were pleased to he called prominent. Influential, leaders, exclusive; ex-clusive; she had only to convince them thoroughly that she knew they detested publicity to get anything any-thing she wanted (TO DE co.tim i:d) |